For Alix.
Les passeuses d'écume / They, who pass over the Foam from the Sea
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An essay by Anne Faucheret accompanied by many many accomplices
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For Noa & Snow, an artist book by Alix Eynaudi
Design • Goda Budvytytė
Publishing • BOM DIA BOA TARDE BOA NOITE
A possible beginning.
« O draperies des mots, assemblages de l’Art littéraire, ô massifs, ô pluriels,
parterres de voyelles colorées, décors des lignes, ombres de la muette, boucles
superbes des consonnes, architectures, fioritures des points et des signes brefs, à
mon secours ! au secours de l’homme qui ne sait plus danser, qui ne connaît plus
le secret des gestes, et qui n’a plus le courage ni la science de l’expression directe
par les mouvements.
Cependant, grâce à vous, réserves immobiles d’élans sentimentaux, réserves de
passions communes sans doute à tous les civilisés de notre Age, je veux le croire,
on peut me comprendre, je suis compris. Concentrez, détendez vos puissances, -
et que l’éloquence à la lecture imprime autant de troubles et de désirs, de
mouvements commençants, d’impulsions, que le microphone le plus sensible à
l’oreille de l’écouteur. Un appareil, mais profondément sensible. (…)»
– Francis Ponge, "La promenade dans nos serres", Le Parti Pris des Choses, 1919
“I am the gateway to another world,” (said I, looking in the mirror) “I am the
earth-mother; I am the eternal siren; I am purity,” (Jeez, new pimples) “I am
carnality; I have intuition; I am the life-force; I am selfless love.” (Somehow it
sounds different in the first person, doesn't it?)
“Honey (said the mirror, scandalised) Are you out of your fucking mind?”
I AM HONEY
I AM RASPBERRY JAM
I AM A VERY GOOD LAY
I AM A GOOD DATE
I AM A GOOD WIFE
I AM GOING CRAZY
Everything was peaches and cream.
(…)
The full moon
The Winter solstice (You haven't lived if you haven't seen us running around in
our skivvies, banging on pots and pans, shouting "Come back, sun! Goddammit,
come back! Come back!")
The Summer solstice (rather different)
The autumnal equinox
The vernal equinox
The flowering of trees
The flowering of bushes
The planting of seeds
Happy copulation
Unhappy copulation
Longing
Jokes
Leaves falling off the trees (where deciduous)
Acquiring new shoes
Wearing same
Birth
The contemplation of a work of art
Marriages
Sport
Divorces
Anything at all
Nothing at all
Great ideas
Death”
– Joanna Russ, The Female Man, 1975
“Power can be invisible, can be fantastic, it can be dull and routine. It can be
obvious, it can reach you by the baton of the police, it can speak the language of
your thoughts and desires. It can feel like remote control, it can exhilarate like
liberation, it can travel through time, and it can drown you in the present. It is
dense and superficial, it can cause bodily injury, and it can harm you without
seeming ever to touch you. It is systematic and it is particularistic and it is often
both at the same time. It causes dreams to live and dreams to die. We can and
must call it by recognizable names, but so too we need to remember that power
arrives in forms that can range from blatant white supremacy and state terror to
“furniture without memories”.”
– Avery Gordon, Ghostly Matters, 1997, chapter 1: her shape in his hand.
Altbau.
Three pieces in a row. A stripped down but welcoming atmosphere, between
historical museum and living room. No white cube, no white practicable. The stage is the
largest central space, delimited by its fringes, furniture pieces and small spaces reserved for
the public. Antique or new armchairs. Cushions. Wood. Leather. Red. Brown. White. Small
simple chipboard shelves and stools. Various heights. Books littering the furniture. A floral
fabric relief adorns a loudspeaker on the floor. A leather duck. In line with the opening to the
next room, two light bulbs mounted on black metal legs. The next rooms are not accessible.
The audience is coming. Murmurs then silence. Usually there is this very short, silent, tense
moment preceding a performance. The attention is all turned towards the first gesture that
would poke, the first sound that would emanate from the bodies of the performers. They are
already there, quietly sitting on one of the sides.
But the moment stretches. Time flows. They don't move.
A special attention to space, furniture, one's own body and other bodies becomes possible.
Don’t only occupy the space! Take possession of it, touch it with your eyes and probe it!
We observe each other, with curiosity, without voyeurism. The configuration of space – the
distances, the distribution of objects and zones, but also the colours – makes this moment
pleasant, not difficult at all. From a neglected moment of pure awaiting, this preamble
becomes foundational. It seals the temporary community to come. It guides us in what will
follow.
Celebration of a coming together.
“(…) the production of space and the decisions we make for its organization are
ultimately articulations about ‘us’ and reciprocally, how a ‘we’ can be articulated”,
– Laboria Cuboniks, Xenofeminism: A Politics for Alienation, 2015, 0x14, CARRY.
The fabric of our affection.
A grabs a folded cloth. She climbs on a small podium and lets a large piece of white cotton
fabric unfold, where an abstract figure is drawn in black felt pen. The lines create rounded
surfaces. Somewhere between Brancusi and Schlemmer. A modern image, which seems
outdated but still haunts us. A holds the fabric at arm's length, without brandishing it: it
grazes his body over its entire surface. It acts as a screen, hides but at the same time partly
reveals, and above all awakens in us the desire to see, to touch.
A’s body becomes a map.
C approaches her and follows the black lines drawn with her fingers holding an imaginary
chalk. The fabric moves and deforms, it makes waves under the light drawing pressures of C's
hand. And above all, it follows the shapes of A's body. This is the place of contact and
separation. The two bodies meet on either side of it. Hand and breast, hand and navel, hand
and shoulders. The fabric is at the same time sheet, flag, screen, veil, membrane, second skin, interface. It will also soon become a soft door.
“Weaving has been the art and the science of software, which is perhaps less a contribution to civilization than its terminal decline. Perhaps weaving is even the fabric of every other discovery and invention, perhaps the beginning and the end of their history. The loom is a fatal innovation, which weaves its way from squared paper to the data net”,
– Sadie Plant, The Future Looms: Weaving Women and Cybernetics, 1995
Elles accrochent et décrochent. Elles s’accrochent et se décrochent. Elles tissent des
nouvelles relations.
Elles délient et relient.
They weave. They untie and connect.
They take care of each other.
And of us.
A’s and C’s costumes are togas, ritual clothes, nightgowns, dream shirts, wellness uniforms.
Wellness waitresses treating themselves and (consequently, collateraly) treating us.
Tissu. Texte. Texte dansé.
Cloth. Text. A dansed text.
« Texte veut dire Tissu ; mais alors que jusqu’ici on a toujours pris ce tissu pour un produit, un voile tout fait, derrière lequel se tient, plus ou moins caché, le sens (la vérité), nous accentuons maintenant, dans le tissu, l’idée générative que le texte se fait, se travaille à travers un entrelacs perpétuel ; perdu dans ce tissu – cette texture – le sujet s’y défait, telle une araignée qui se dissoudrait elle-même dans les sécrétions constructives de sa toile. »
– Roland Barthes, Le plaisir du texte, 1973.
A & C perform together sequences of movements. Each sequence is made the same way: an
initial position in tension and in contact; an unfolding, a deployment, an extension leading to
an acme – or sometimes to a sudden contradiction of the initial dynamics –, then a closing, a
temporary release. The forms hatch and then wither. These short forms function like
choreographic follies. They are distinct from each other but yet linked by a common
vocabulary and common metabolism. Above all, all are marked by a moment of sudden
tilting, physically speaking (suddenly, the whole figure reverses), symbolically speaking (a
gently movement suddenly turns into a sign of domination), or metaphorically speaking (a
belly becomes a wave).
The two dancers' bodies are in almost permanent contact, through one or several points, one or several surfaces, through which all the transforming energy seems to flow back and forth, metamorphosing continuously the danced figures.
The energy passes from one body to another with extreme fluidity.
The movements reveal at the same time an extreme attention and a constant crossing of
limits, that is never violent.
They glide like fishes one above the other, one within the other.
They crawl gently one below the other.
They stand up and curl over each other.
The two bodies become one.
Elles glissent comme des poisons l’une au-dessus de l’autre, l’une dans l’autre.
Elles rampent délicatement l’une en dessous de l’autre.
Elles se dressent et s’enroulent l’une sur l’autre.
Des deux corps en advient un.
Corps fleuve, corps montagne, corps gouffre, corps paysage.
Corps arbre, corps fleur.
Corps insecte, corps panthère, corps animal.
Corps guerrière (guérillères). Corps machine.
There are many images unfolding in the dance, with various connotations. Walking on the four. Sprouting of a little plant. Object running on an assembly-line. The body/bodies merge into the different kingdoms (animal, vegetal, mineral and even industrial), and moreover, they incorporate their hybridization. The reigns are ceaselessly transgressed, brought elsewhere, mixed with each other. We witness, as if in acceleration, the birth and death of a new, intense, collective, ephemeral and fragile form of life.
Always: a sense of being so entirely caught up (that is: caught in such an intensity that
nothing else seems to matter) in an aesthetic object, that transcends aesthetics.
Then the performers stop and relax and something else begins, elsewhere.
A video. A title. All Together. Feedback Now. Total Access Inc. On my personal Coca-cola
memories and other globalised pop affects. It is a film by Paula Caspao.
Atmosphere: sun, coconut tree, wind, beach and sea. Desire and consumption.
Advertisement. Tutorial. Feature Movie. Joga. Coca-cola. A voice. Several voices. Several
layers and excerpts interlacing and superimposing each other. Erste NASA Foto von der Erde
aus dem Weltall; Steward Brand, Whole Earth Catalogue, 1969; Extraits de Deux ou trois
choses que je sais d’elle, 1967.
Following the rain. Pouring my attention down. Following the rain. Pouring my attention
down. La mer qu’on voit danser le long des golfes clairs. La mer qu’on voit danser le long des
golfes clairs. La mer qu’on voit danser le long des golfes clairs. Cry me a river.
Deux ou trois choses :
On entend la voix chuchotée de Godard tandis que les images montrent les échanges de
regard de deux personnages dans un café, entre les bruits des machines, le cliquetis d’une
cuiller dans une tasse de café, et les images enivrantes de sa surface liquide, devenant
galaxies ou oeil de Cain.
« Peut-être qu’un objet est ce qui permet de relier, de passer d’un sujet à l’autre, donc de vivre en société, d’être ensemble. Mais alors puisque la relation sociale est toujours ambiguë, puisque ma pensée divise autant qu’elle unit, puisque ma parole rapproche parce qu’elle exprime et isole par ce qu’elle tait, parce qu’un immense fossé sépare la certitude subjective que j’ai de moi-même de la vérité objective que je suis pour les autres… (…) Puisque je ne peux pas m’arracher à l’objectivité qui m’écrase ni à la subjectivité qui m’exile. Puisqu’il ne m’est pas permis de m’élever jusqu’à l’être ni de tomber dans le néant.
(…) Dire que les limites du langage sont celles du monde, que les limites de mon langage sont celles de mon monde. Et qu’en parlant je limite le monde, je le termine. Et que la mort un jour logique et mystérieux viendra abolir cette limite. Et qu’il n’y aura ni question ni réponse, tout sera flou. Mais si par hasard les choses redeviennent nettes ce ne peut qu’être avec l’apparition de la conscience. Ensuite, tout s’enchaîne. »
– Deux ou trois choses que je sais d’elle, Jean-Luc Godard, 1967
Discursive lines. Assembly lines. Choreographic lines.
Lignes et corps. Lignes du corps. Lignes des corps. Corps des lignes. Lignes de fuite.
Dispersion et dépolarisation.
Incorporation. Incorporated. Corporations.
Ecologie. Post colonialisme. Câbles sous-marins.
Théorie des affects.
Accessibilité, inaccessibilité. Visibilité, invisibilité.
Connectivité. Rhizome.
Matérialité de la connectivité. Connectivité de la matière.
We're all together watching this footage. Together but not too much together. A and C are
lying down on the floor. Relaxed. We'd like to join them.
Film Credits scrolling / The dancers go out / Silence hemmed in by the sounds of the
ventilation system.
Suddenly, a duck draws my attention on her (I decide it is a she) - I can’t remember if
someone turned her eyes on or if these had been on for a longer time but it was precisely at
this moment that I acknowledged their glowing presence.
A light brown leather female duck, with green LED eyes.
A toy, an artisanal object, a thing, a trophy, a joke? At any case, a hybrid.
“The question is not so much finding a queer line but rather asking what our orientation toward queer moments of deviation will be. If the object slips away, if its face becomes inverted, if it looks odd, strange, or out of place, what will we do?”,
– Sara Ahmed, Queer Phenomenology: Objects, Orientations, Others, 2006
The dancers come back through the same door where they previously had hung the white
cloth. They took off their togas. They are now gymnasts. (Or, perhaps, they were just hot?)
Die Antwort auf Metaphysik ist Umwandlung. Ein neues verkörpertes Werden. Eine
Verschiebung der Perspektive. Tempo und Grad der Veränderung selbst zu bestimmen.
Sie brauchen plötzlich mehr Komplexität, Vielfalt, Gleichzeitigkeit.
A queer origin, an originary queerness, an originary birthing that is always already a rebirthing. Nature is birthed out of chaos and void, tohu v’vohu, an echo, a diffracted/differentiating/différancing murmuring, an originary repetition without sameness, regeneration out of a fecund nothingness.
– Karen Barad, TransMaterialities: Trans*/Matter/Realities and Queer Political Imaginings, 2015
The holds and figures resume, even more complex, more intense. There seem to be less filtering and more spontaneity – although, played. The complex figures are tied and untied, like the string figures. Bodies grab, rub, slide, lean and nestle on particularly sensitive places, sometimes on erogenous zones. A caress, by one foot, on the crest of C's buttocks. Knee passages between the legs. Nose touches near the belly. The slowness or languor is followed by an extreme dynamism which overturns the whole figure, both physically and symbolically.
The caress becomes a grip, sporty or dominating, oriented and disorienting. Gestures that
furtively remind us of imposed constraints become consensual domination. Comforting.
Des gestes qui furtivement rappellent des sujétions imposées deviennent des dominations
consenties. Réconfortantes.
Les performeuses sont des passeuses d’écume.
Des zones sensibles : les organes de perceptions et les zones de connexion, zones de
frontières, zones de contact. D’autres zones sensibles : les bords des corps (doigts, mains,
orteils) et les bords de l’espace (jointures, angles) des objets (coutures, contours, franges).
Le corps devient pont. Ou une lettre.
Ramper, avec le dos et les talons et les doigts.
Corps perchoir, corps mâchoires, corps plongeoir, corps mangeoire, corps savoir.
ailleurs reste mobile
le long de nos remparts
ailleurs est ce rêve proche
de murmures d’eaux confiantes
je suis charnière
j’articule
– Amina Saïd, Paysages, nuit friable, 1980, p. 31.
Il y a toujours un jeu entre attraction et répulsion, par tension, pression et poussée.
Les corps sont tellement imprégnés des mouvements, qu’ils semblent n’en plus être les
maîtres – comme s’ils étaient traversés par des énergies de collision ou de séparation.
Plaisir. Désir. Travail. Langage.
Représentation. Action. Travail.
Repos. Travail. Parole.
Danse. Gestes. Texte. Travail.
Gestes minutieux.
Gestes figurés.
Gestes littéraux.
Gestes littéraires.
Gestes de survie.
Gestes de passion.
Gestes dangereux.
« Elles disent, malheureuse, ils t'ont chassée du monde des signes, et cependant ils t'ont donné des noms, ils t'ont appelée esclave. Comme des maîtres ils ont exercé leur droit de maître. Ils écrivent de ce droit de donner des noms qu'il va si loin que l'on peut considérer l'origine du langage comme un acte d'autorité émanant de ceux qui dominent. Ainsi ils disent qu'ils ont dit, ceci est telle ou telle
chose, ils ont attaché à un objet et à un fait tel vocable et par là ils se le sont pour ainsi dire appropriés. Elles disent ce faisant, ils ont gueulé hurlé de toutes leurs forces pour te réduire au silence. Elles disent, le langage que tu parles t'empoisonne la glotte la langue le palais les lèvres. Elles disent le langage que tu parles est fait de mots qui te tuent. Elles disent, le langage que tu parles est fait de signes qui à proprement parler désignent ce qu'ils se sont approprié. Ce sur quoi ils n'ont pas mis la main, ce sur quoi ils n'ont pas fondu comme des rapaces aux yeux multiples, cela n'apparaît pas dans le langage que tu parles. Cela se manifeste juste dans l'intervalle que les maîtres n'ont pas pu combler avec leurs mots de propriétaires et de possesseurs, cela peut se chercher dans la lacune, dans tout ce qui n'est pas la continuité de leur discours, dans le zéro, le O, le cercle parfait que tu inventes pour les emprisonner et pour les vaincre. »
– Monique Wittig, Guérillères, 1969.
Two voices light up, one deep, the other clearer, echoing each other. They recite.
They magically activate two light bulbs. They palpitate according to the vocal scansion. They
become long and filiform beings.
Are the lamps speaking to us? Or is it the whole space?
The lamps are two of them. The voices are two of them. The dancers are two of them.
Everything is: two.
Through light, the space suddenly opens up, gets magically deeper.
Shapes of light appear on the wall in the background, far away from us.
They are like scars or scratches made light.
Indeed: a Fontana's scratch has been transformed with a stencil and a projector. Through this
technical transfiguration, the scratch takes on relief, thickness, flesh, and intensity. The (male
designed) hole in matter becomes shiny energy.
Enchantment.
« Par la fente quelque chose s'est engouffré, venu d'ailleurs... Un ailleurs était là,
qu'on ne soupçonnait pas, ou plutôt qu'on s'efforçait d'ignorer, on faisait
semblant, pour la commodité, vous comprenez... Et c'est là, ça presse de toutes
parts, cela s'infiltre... Non, pas ça... ces mots projetés du dehors sont comme des
particules qui cristallisent ce qui était en suspens... tout autour de vous se fige, se
durcit, on se heurte à des choses coupantes, à des piquants..." Mais de toutes
parts on proteste... "Assez d'énigmes. Faites-nous voir. Qu'est-ce que c'est que
tout ça ? Ces drogues, ces cristaux, ces volcans ? Comment voulez-vous qu'on
vous comprenne, qu'on vous réponde ? »,
– Nathalie Sarraute, Entre la vie et la mort, 1968
The dancers come back a last time to dance – a last round ending in a kiss, or an ending in the
beginning of a kiss. A kiss without any movement. A kiss, frozen before being. A never ending
promise.
Hieratic. Sybilline.
L’intersidéral dans l’inframince.
The intersidereal in the inframince.
The dancers come back a last time to take care of us – they're rolling up a table-bar.
They're serving. Vodka. Apple juice.
Other work. Other production. Other reproduction. Kindness. Caring. Sharing. Cherishing.
Opening.
Another treatment follows the choreographic treatment session.
Endless care.
“We declare the beauty of the world has to be enriched by a new beauty: the beauty of kindness. Instead of directly escaping into the dream of a still faretched machinic future that could masterfully end the limited perspective of our species or into the conservative retreat to a past which is impossible and not desirable to bring back to life, we believe the Gynecene is compatible with machinic desires and existing forms of life, which is inhuman in its break with human history as much as it is human in its enactment of our current possibilities. We believe the endless quest for meaning can be momentarily satisfied by recognizing each other as individual instants in a collective, fragile, subjective time, facing the vastness of our cosmic surroundings and bound by
imagining together our future extensions.”
– Alexandra Pirici & Raluca Voinea, Manifesto for the Gynecene – Sketch of a New Geological Era, 2015.
„Es geht um den oikos, den Haushalt in seinem sowohl makro-als auch mikroskopischen Sinn, das heißt um Anschlüsse, um An- und Abkoppelungen, um Ketten und Effekte. Feministische Techno-Öko-Subjektivität ist vibrierende Assemblage von Verkettungen, ein Relais pulsierender Schaltungen und un/menschlicher Bewegungen, Kommunikationen und Empfindungen in den
techno-planetarischen Schichten und Ablagerungen namens Erde.“
– Yvonne Volkart, „Techno-Öko-Feminismus. Unmenschliche Empfindungen in technoplanetarischen Schichten“, in Die schönen Kriegerinnen, Cornelia Sollfrank, 2018.
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Link to the book Noa & Snow
http://noaandsnow.at/thebook
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Link to Noa & Snow's website
http://noaandsnow.at/
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Link to the artist's website
https://www.alixeynaudi.com/